


Coffee Hours

by drainspoon



Series: Newt's 'Was Probably Bullied into Writing' Fluff Collection [3]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Awkward Romance, Coffee, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gay Panic, Gen, M/M, Pining, Secret Crush, Wingwoman Stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:13:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26832736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drainspoon/pseuds/drainspoon
Summary: And that reminded him of yet another one of life's mysteries -- Why was he here, drinking this beverage he despised? That one was simple enough to answer.Iskall was a simp.
Relationships: Grian/Iskall, Impulse/Iskall, Iskall/False, Iskall/Tango, Iskall85 & Stressmonster101, mentioned:
Series: Newt's 'Was Probably Bullied into Writing' Fluff Collection [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924243
Comments: 10
Kudos: 47





	Coffee Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mathsthetic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathsthetic/gifts).



Iskall thumbed the plastic lid, pressing the little pop-up circles on the top down and then back up through the bottom, trying to dwadle his way out of taking even a sip of the caffeinated beverage. He hated coffee. With a burning, fiery passion. The liquid-that-could-hardly-pass-as-drink was only overcome by diorite, if he tiered his hatred (which he did, but that's besides the point). Hot bean juice. Who the hell drinks _hot bean juice?!_

Grimacing, he tipped the cup back, pursing his lips uncomfortably as the coffee slid down his throat disgustingly quickly. He did, apparently.

He pierced the upper half of the styrofoam with one of his nails, creating a tiny slit on the opposing end as it occured to him that he was clutching the cup rather violently. It was absurd, the drink. Who mixes beans with water, heats it up, and calls it a day? Well, he wasn't entirely sure how it was made, but that seemed about right. Why in the world would anyone want to drink hot water? Hot flavored water? He didn't know.

And that reminded him of yet another one of life's mysteries -- Why was he here, drinking this beverage he despised? That one was simple enough to answer.

Iskall was a simp.

It made perfect sense to him. There was a cute server ("Impulse", his nametag said) at this pretty little coffee shop that sold nothing besides the abhorrent bean juice and a few baked goods to go with and Iskall was a pathetic homosexual who hated said abhorrent bean juice. Instead of giving up on his newfound affection, he would just pretend to like coffee. _Simple enough,_ he thought. _As long as no one I know shows up and blows my cover, I'll be fine. It'll be easy._

"Iskall?" _Ah. Of course it wouldn't be._

He wheeled around in his chair, sputtering a prepared excuse that came out a hardly eligible scramble of sounds. One of his close buddies, Stress Monster, stood by the entrance to the little shop, an amused expression on her face as she stifled giggles. She made her way to the opposing chair, sliding in easily and offering him a bubbly grin as his face flushed.

"And what are you doing here, love?" she inquired, giving him no pause to respond as she placed her elbows on the table and slid forwards some. "I fink you've got a crush, don't you?" 

He fumbled with his cup, spewing excuses, "No! I was just trying to like coffee! Through force! Mumbo always drags me to coffee shops to talk about ODEA and Omega Store and," He lost his train of thought and opted to quickly abandon it completely. "Well, I can't just order nothing so I should order coffee, but I don't like coffee so I came here to make myself like coffee and --"

Stress reached forwards and snatched his coffee cup out of his grasp with relative ease, gesturing with the cup and a stray finger to the counter, where clerks with varying degrees of dead-inside expressions stood tending the counters. "Who is it?" Iskall kept rambling, hardly even acknowledging the lack of a cup in his hand anymore.

With a heaving sigh, she stood up and popped off the lid of the styrofoam, dipping a finger in experimentally before dumping the entirety of it's contents onto his tightened hands. He sputtered, instanly silencing as the wave of just barely warm caffeine doused his palms. "I--" She sat back down. He wheezed a little, coughing out a meek, " _Stress_ \--?!"

She leaned back peacefully, pulling her legs up into a criss-cross position with a little hum as she scanned the counter.

"You have a thing for yellow, don't you, love? First Gri, then Tangy, then that crush on Falsie, and now," she drawled out the last syllable, eyeing one man in particular with a near predatory grin. She jabbed a finger at the man -- _Impulse_ \-- and practically purred, "That guy!" 

He didn't think it could get any worse.

...And then Stress stood up.

She bounced up to the counter, rolling on the balls of her feet peppily as she walked past two open cashiers to stand in front of Impulse. He smiled at her and Iskall buried his face in his arms to hide his blush, "Good morning, ma'am! What can I do for you?" God, how could a man look so perfect? Chestnut hair slightly mussed up, just the minimal of stubble on his tanned chin, light idle blush splayed across his face and making him appear almost sunkissed. 

His eyes were another story -- Like dark chocolate dipped in honey, they were just the slightest tinted gold that glittered in the shop lighting. He wondered what they looked like in natural light. Would it fade? Would it grow? He'd love them all the same. And, god, how the corners of his eyes crinkled up oh so endearingly whenever he smiled, the grin always meeting up to them without fail. He clearly enjoyed his job in a way unmatched by others.

He didn't even realize he'd lifted his head to stare until it clocked in that Stress was speaking. "...your number?" He didn't catch the first part, but it was clear enough. _Oh no._

Impulse looked taken aback, lifting his hands to dismissively wave her off. "Oh, my, no, I-I'm sorry, miss. I'm gay."

"What luck! So is me friend!" She poked a finger back towards Iskall, who flushed as Impulse made eye contact with him. "Here's his number. Call him, will you?" She slipped a paper over the counter. _When did she write that?!_ The beauty offered a curt wave in his direction, which he responded to with a shaky one of his own.

His face busted into a shiny grin. "I just might."

Stress tapped her nails on the counter with an entertained smirk as they endulged in a blushy staring contest before she realized something. "Oh, right! Can I get a cappuccino?"

**Author's Note:**

> iskall is a raging homosexual and stress is a confident wingwoman and impulse is just the awkward smiley gay


End file.
